Things I'll Never Say
by isn't-she-lovelyy
Summary: In which Draco finds Astoria, Astoria chases Draco, and the two converse over odd things whilst flipping through a sketchbook. /Draco and Astoria, lost in a garden.


**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. Mkay? Mkay.**

**A/N: My entry for the "Song Shuffle Contest" by burning happiness on HPFC. This takes place the summer before Astoria's third year, and Draco's fifth. Hope you all enjoy! :) **

**Song: **Things I'll Never Say  
**Artist: **Avril Lavigne  
**Word Count: **1,434  
**Pairing:** DracoAstoria

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_if i could say what i want to say  
i'd say i wanna blow you away_

-;-

"What are you doing?" a voice whispered in my ear, making me jump. My shoulder hit whoever had startled me in what I assumed was the face. "Dammit, what the bloody hell?" hissed the voice, now sounding farther away. And it was a male, I realized.

I spun around, apple green eyes wide, and raised my brows at the intruder. Somehow, Draco Malfoy, the infamous son of a Death Eater, had managed to find my hiding spot in our family's garden (I don't even know why they still call it that though; I'm the only one who takes time to care for it). Here, concealed from sight beneath the canopy of bushes, was where I sat, and where he'd succeeded in discovering me.

How in the world did he manage to find me?

"What are you doing here?" I inquired, shyly pressing my pad of paper into my chest. The last time I saw him, he was sitting in the living room with Daphne, Pansy, Theo, and Blaise, who had all visited for the summer. They were busy discussing that pure-blood nonsense Mother and Father were always on about.

Draco, still cupping his bruising chin, shrugged. Removing his hand, he plopped down on the stone bench across from me. "I got bored," he said, running a hand through platinum blonde hair. Then added as an afterthought, "and Daphne and Theo won't quit bickering."

I smiled slightly. "Why'd you come _out here_, I mean?"

"My mother has a garden at the Manor," said Draco, and his lips curved upwards slyly. "I wanted to check out our competition."

"Oh." I mumbled. "Well, yours is probably better anyway."

He threw his head back in laughter and shoved my shoulder playfully. "I was _kidding_, Astoria. And it's actually very nice. Do you have gardeners?" he asked, and a sense of pride erupted in the pit of my stomach.

I shook my head. "No, I take care of it. Mother and Father and Daphne rarely come out here."

"You're doing a great job. It really is lovely."

"Thank you," I murmured, avoiding his stare and allowing my long, blonde hair to mask my face.

"What've you got there?" asked Draco, gesturing to my notepad, which I obviously hadn't hidden well enough.

"Oh, erm, nothing." I stuttered, heat rising to my cheeks.

He rolled his eyes and smirked at me – a legitimate _smirk._ Is it wrong for my stomach to be flip-flopping right now? I sure hope not.

"It doesn't look like nothing, Astoria," he pressed on, leaning forwards. I was suddenly very entranced by his flirtatious gaze, and I couldn't do anything but gulp. Loudly. He moved closer and closer, and I found myself struggling to breathe. His face was inches from mine, his hands moving forwards… Then, before I knew it, my drawing pad had been ripped from my grasp, and was now in the hands of Draco.

I shot to my feet in a spur of anger. How _dare_ he? "Please, give it back." I said, voice shaking and cheeks burning. He began to flip through the pages and my breath caught in my throat. I lunged without a second thought. "Give it _back_, Draco!"

He carelessly sidestepped my body, laughing all the while. I ran towards him again, but he was older and faster and easily raced away into the thicket of the garden. A tired sigh escaped my lips, before I tore down the path after him. His laughter floated through the air as he ran, and I set my jaw at the sound of his amusement, brows furrowing.

"Draco!" I called, already breathing heavily. "Draco, please, stop!" His throaty chuckles were all I received in reply. The two of us wound in and out of the shrubs, twisted through a few overgrown vines, and ducked under a prickly, rose bush while we ran.

When he finally came to a stop, we were far from my hiding place, and the sheer amount of green surrounding us was enough to confuse me. Draco had planted himself on another white bench, whose paint was peeling, beside an overgrown hedge. He then proceeded to flip through the pages of _my_ sketchbook. Smiling at _my_ sketchbook.

Wait, what? He was _smiling_? At _my_ sketchbook? _My _sketches?

Am I dreaming?

I gnawed apprehensively on my lip, hands interlocked behind my back as I moved forward. "Erm, Draco?" I said quietly.

He glanced up, eyes sparkling and lips smirking – again with _smirking!_ – and I blushed slightly. "Did you draw these?" he inquired, his brows lifted.

My head dropped into a swift nod. "Yeah," was my only response.

"They're amazing."

I think my heart stopped. Like, seriously stopped beating for a second. "T-Thanks," I choked out. Draco patted the bench beside him, and I happily complied.

He pointed to one of my more recent drawings. "When's this from?"

"Today at breakfast," I mumbled, looking down at the sketch of Mother, Father, and Daphne. When he flipped the page, I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. "And this is today at lunch, when you five were having tea."

Draco let loose a chortle at the next drawing. "Is this Daph and Theo?"

I nodded, also giggling a bit. The picture showed two teenagers, one female and the other male. The girl had both hands planted on her hips, and the boy was pointing what looked like a sassy finger at the female. Both had their brows furrowed and eyes narrowed – definitely Theodore Nott and my elder sister. "It's from when you four visited our manor last summer."

"You got them spot on, for sure." Draco grinned down at me, as he was much taller, and I beamed right back. Then he moved to the next page. My eyes widened and the smile fell from my lips as warmth rushed to my cheeks. "Is that… me?"

The sketch was of a young man with sharp, pointed features. Jaw set, shoulders hunched. His hair and eyes were a fair color, and he looked rather handsome, if not distressed. "Y-Yeah," I muttered, too embarrassed to look up and gage Draco's reaction.

We lapsed into eerie silence, until, "It's absolutely _brilliant._ Are my eyebrows always bunched up like that?"

I'm not sure why, but this particular statement startled a giggle out of me. "No, no, this was after you caught Pansy and Blaise…" I caught myself and grimaced. Merlin, I was so stupid.

"When I caught them snogging, you mean?" he finished for me, though no resentment was found in his tone of voice. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued. "S'alright, it was an accident. They didn't mean for it to happen. We're all good now."

"Well, that's good." I would've said more, told him the truth, but all those years holding my tongue in front of Father's Death Eater friends were hard to suppress.

I should've told him, though. I should've told him that first day we met. He had come storming into the living room, where I was sketching, and we exchanged a few words – nothing major, just names and such. I could've told him them. I could've told him that it was Pansy. It was Pansy Parkinson that came onto Blaise Zabini. I could've told him that they snogged a good five minutes before he arrived. But I didn't, and I won't now, either.

"D'you think we should be getting back?" asked Draco from beside me. I gave a shrug of my shoulders. Why did I still feel slightly guilty?

The next thing I knew, he was tucking my blonde hair behind my ear and placing a cherry blossom he'd picked from the bush behind us, in my tresses. My wide eyes glanced up at him; he was smirking again. "What's this for?"

"Well," he gestured to the sketch of a younger Draco Malfoy, the infamous son of a Death Eater. "You made _me_ look pretty good, so I figured I could return the favor. Not that you don't look good now – you do. I mean, you do look good. Great, even."

My cheeks flushed and I averted my gaze as he stood. Had I really just made him stutter? Had he really just called my good-looking? Draco held out his hand and I accepted it with a polite, "Thank you." Once I'd been pulled to my feet, and my sketchbook had been returned, I gave him a smile.

"So," Draco began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Which way outta here?"

A giggle escaped my throat, and I bit my lip sheepishly. "I have no idea."

-;-

_guess i'm wishing my life away  
with these things i'll never say_

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